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44 ARIADNE.me, and stayed on in Paris, going every nightand day to stare up at Hilarion's house, and ringat the closed gate,and receive the same answer,until the keeper of the gate grew angry, andthreatened to hand me over to the keeping ofgendarmes.No doubt wiser folks and richer ones wouldhave gone at once to the aid of the law to findher or hear of her,in many various ways, butIwas afraid: we Trasteverini have no love of thelaw, or ofits administrators,high andlow, andIthought itbest, rightly or wrongly, to keep closemy own counsel.Once passing a great public place, newlyerected, and very handsome in the soulless sortof splendour which is the highest that yourmodern architecture ever reaches,Isaw throughthe ranges of the columns in its halls the Neroand the Actea high-thronedin aplace of honour.The young artists were speaking ofit."How perfect it is," said one; "he is agreatman.""Aye, truly," said the other; "and what a■beautiful Hfe his has been; beautiful as any